Your Way Around
by ansera
Summary: The case with NCIS should have been simple. Tony/Gibbs, Morgan/Reid.


It was supposed to be a simple case.

He knew that there'd be difficulties with the other team, some NCIS people, an organization that Morgan actually knew something about, having worked a case that had involved a marine. He didn't iknow/i anything about NCIS, though, or about the people who worked in it.

Looking back, he really should have read up on them or something first.

-|-

The BAU team sat back, only Hotch willing to stand up and look at the man who glared at him so painfully that it made Morgan wince. There were other people there. A man with brown hair and green eyes and the sort of grin that Morgan had only ever seen in a mirror, expensive outfit; too easy and charming, and Morgan knew he was hiding something. A woman with long hair and a defensive stance that spoke of a long past inflicting pain and having pain inflicted on her. Another man, slightly hunched, obviously the 'Reid' of their team, but he straightened slightly under their glances and Morgan thought that he had more of a backbone then people gave him credit for.

They were looking at their team with frank appraisal.

Hotch spoke first. "I'm Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner, these are SSA Rossi, Prentiss, Morgan, and Jareau, and this is Dr. Reid." He held out his hand, keeping his expression as non-threatening as he could –Hotch knew, as Morgan did, that this man was an alpha in every way.

"Gibbs," the man half-grunted.

The man with brown hair walked up, his grin widening as his eyes rested on Emily, "Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, Special Agents David and McGee."

Hotch took the hand and shook it, and Tony stepped back after a moment, letting Gibbs take the lead again. Morgan took note of the action, there was an interesting play of 'play-the-leader' in this team, although, it went without mention that Gibbs had the ultimate say in everything.

"Should we run through the case?" Hotch offered, phrasing it as a question so as not to insult.

Gibbs gave a sharp nod before taking a sip of the coffee, and Tony stepped forward again. "You already know," he said, moving towards the board where everything was tacked up. "Four marines," his voice sharpened, more firm, and Morgan knew that no matter how the man appeared, he had his job for a reason.

Then he stopped profiling his new teammates and started listening to what was being said. He already knew it, but more information could only help.

-|-

"Just follow the members and you won't get lost," had been Hotch's helpful advice as to how to navigate the ship. They had all been slightly confused with the lingo that Tony had dropped so easily –scuttlebutt, which Probie, as Tony affectionately called McGee, had defined as gossip, or the random string of numbers attached to each door with a meaning only Reid had seemed to understand.

Morgan glanced curiously at Tony, who seemed to have little problem finding his way around, throwing out greetings to a few of the crew members.

Tony noticed.

"So," Morgan started. "Have you been working long under Gibbs?"

Tony shrugged casually. "A while."

"You were a cop once," Morgan guessed suddenly, going on instinct at knowing other cops.

Tony nodded. "Baltimore PD for a couple of years, other places before that," he turned into a corner. "You were a cop, weren't you?" he asked, and Morgan nodded. "Thought so," he said, smiling at the lady who passed by. "Say, the girl in your team-"

"Emily Prentiss?" Morgan clarified.

Tony waggled his brows. "She's a catch. She seeing anyone?" Tony asked, although there was a sense of routine about it, as though it was a question he continued asking without actually meaning it.

Morgan shrugged. "Rossi."

Tony paused mid-step, and then muttered, "There goes Rule 12."

"Rule 12?"

Tony let out a chuckle. "Rule 12, never date a co-worker."

"Whose rules are these?" Morgan asked, although he already had an idea as to the answer.

"Gibbs'," Tony said, his eyes glinting at some secret that only he –and probably Gibbs as well, since he seemed the type to make it a point to know everything—knew. "That one's a goner, though, with Probie dating Abby." The name seemed familiar, the forensic scientist that Tony had mentioned. "Wouldn't expect those two to be together," Tony said thoughtfully.

"Why not?" Morgan asked, wondering what this Abby was like.

"You don't know Abby," Tony grinned. "She's a goth, black clothes, collars, sleeps in a coffin, that sort of girl. Plus, she's like Gibbs' daughter, takes some serious guts to stand up to Gibbs," Tony shook his head. "Got to give it to Probie for that."

Morgan took in the description and nodded understandingly.

Then Tony turned into another door and charmed the man working there with a few words about a football game –Morgan hadn't watched it, there'd been a case and Reid had been hurt—and a movie.

-|-

"-the USS Reliant was in orbit of Ceti Alpha VI-"

"Oh, I think we're supposed to turn in here," McGee interrupted Reid's speech, and Reid looked around, studying the numbers on the doors. "But I maintain that the 'Wrath of Khan' was the best," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Reid shrugged, about to continue on his conversation on why iWrath of Khan/i remained second to iFirst Contact/i, when he caught sight of the numbers on the wall. "I think we should have turned up one more level back at the turn."

McGee nodded, looking around doubtfully, glancing down at his pocket, where his phone rested unmoving.

"Is your partner someone in the team?" Reid asked.

McGee started. "How did you know that I was seeing anyone-" before he broke off, comprehending exactly who he was speaking to and what Reid did for a living. "Abby, she's our forensic scientist." Reid wondered if McGee even realized that his entire face had softened, a smile growing lightly, at the mention of Abby's name.

"Oh yes, the goth," Reid said understandingly.

"You've met her?" McGee's brows rose.

"No, but Garcia mentioned her earlier, something about both of them having toys that," Reid paused, nose wrinkling slightly, "farted?"

"Bert?" McGee sounded surprised. "I didn't think there were any more farting animals."

"Gibbs doesn't mind you dating her?" Reid asked, since Gibbs seemed like the sort not to want his agents emotionally compromised.

"He does, but Abby's trying to get him to... understand," McGee settled on.

"But-" Reid broke off. While Gibbs might not appreciate his agents pairing up within the team, he obviously had no qualms doing the same, if the slap to the head he had given Tony –who had only smiled winningly—or the short glances the two shared while Tony was speaking, or the small smile he had allowed himself when Tony had quoted some movie meant anything.

Maybe McGee hadn't seen it yet; maybe Tony and Gibbs didn't want him to. Reid suspected the latter.

"Did the times where the marines who died visited the medical bay overlap?" Reid changed the topic.

"Yeah," McGee said distractedly, frowning at the stairs and the numbers printed on it before looking at the corner. "Should we have- no, no, that wouldn't be- wait, the second stairs we met we should've," McGee mumbled to himself, nodding as he continued walking. "They visited it on Tuesday; they'd have seen each other at least."

"Maybe we should ask for directions," Reid suggested. He hadn't been able to look at a map of the ship yet, or he'd have been able to find his way around.

"No need for that," McGee said, not altogether convincingly.

"What is it with you people and asking for directions?" Reid asked, shaking his head. "Derek's the same, absolutely refuses to ask for directions even if we're lost and in the middle of nowhere."

McGee glanced at him, considering him this time. "Derek meaning Morgan?"

Reid nodded.

"You're," McGee paused, and then gestured with his hands, a wave in circles. "You know?"

Reid blinked. Then understanding dawned on him. Then he smiled. "Would that be a problem?" he asked carefully, amused more than anything with the way McGee suddenly blushed and shook his head furiously.

"No, absolutely not," McGee said emphatically. He grinned suddenly, "Abby would love to meet you two."

Reid laughed. "Sounds like Abby should meet Garcia, really."

"She's your-"

"Technical Analyst," Reid said. "She's not goth or anything, the opposite really, but I don't think I'd be wrong in guessing that they have a lot more in common than farting animals. The intrusiveness-"

"And the squealing," McGee said.

Reid shuddered. "You should have seen her when Derek first told her about us, it was so- chaotic."

"Too much life in one body," McGee said sagely.

Reid nodded. "Exactly." Then, while McGee was distracted by the energy that was his girlfriend, he turned to one of the men walking past and asked politely. "Excuse me, but how do we get to the medical bay?"

-|-

Ziva did not like the woman. She guessed that the woman, Prentiss, wasn't too fond of her either. The woman kept looking at her strangely; it set her nerves on edge. "Would you stop trying to guess what makes me tock?" she said irritably.

Prentiss frowned. "What?"

"You're profiling me. You're trying to find out what makes me angry and upset, correct?" Ziva said.

Prentiss still looked confused, before she said, "Oh, you mean tick."

Ziva frowned. It was annoying enough when Tony corrected her, she did not need a stranger doing the same. "Well?"

Prentiss shook her head. "You look familiar, I'm trying to place exactly from-" Then her mouth fell open slightly. "You're Israeli, aren't you, you were in the Middle East, there was a function at the embassy there and you attended it with your father."

Ziva's hand wandered down to where her gun was tucked securely at her waist. "How do you know?"

"My mother went for it, I followed, you were there," Prentiss said simply, and Ziva's hand tightened on the butt of the gun.

"You remember such details from your childhood?" Ziva asked skeptically.

"You were the only girl there who looked as bored as I did, my Mom wanted me to make friends with you, but," Prentiss's shoulders turned up, "I had my own friends, not young ladies, but it didn't matter much."

"I see," Ziva said, even though she did not –the phrase was one she had picked up so as not to let her lack of understanding be shown. She thought that Prentiss saw right through it, if the small smile on her face was anything to go by.

"Why are you in NCIS?" Prentiss asked.

"I am a Mossad Liason Officer," Ziva answered, and it took her a moment to realize that she had replied in Arabic because Prentiss had asked the question in Arabic.

Prentiss grinned, as though she had just understood something. "Any other languages I should be aware of?"

"How about yourself?" Ziva asked, not answering the question.

"Spanish, Russian, Italian," Prentiss said, almost walking into Ziva as the she stopped abruptly in the middle of the corridor. Then Ziva turned right, and Prentiss followed, not bothering to take note of the numbers around her –there were too many, the chances of her learning how to navigate the entire ship within the next couple of days were next to nothing.

"Tony will like that fact," Ziva said.

"Italian?" Prentiss guessed –DiNozzo was an Italian name, after all. "Tell him he's too late, and that Rossi will kick his ass if he tries anything."

Ziva looked slightly surprised that Prentiss had offered information about herself so readily. Prentiss didn't look at her to see her change in expression –Ziva would not take kindly to people watching her. "Rossi is your team member. Nobody minds that you two are together?"

"They can't, there's me and Rossi, and Garcia and Kevin have been going on for a while, and Morgan and Reid think that they're being subtle, but I don't know who they're trying to fool," Prentiss snorted at the mention of the two men. "But, they can't in your team either, right. I know your tech girl, Abbs or something Garcia said, she's with the nerd."

"McGee," Ziva corrected, while it was fine for her or Tony to make fun of Timothy, it did not seem right for anyone else to do the same.

"Yeah, and Gibbs and DiNozzo," Prentiss continued.

Ziva almost smiled; so, Prentiss had noticed the two as well. "They will not admit it."

"They're imen/i," Prentiss said, as though that explained something. And thinking about the sentence while Prentiss flirted with the dead marine's roommate to get information, Ziva thought that maybe it did.

-|-

Hotch glanced at Gibbs over the top of the papers. Rossi was speaking to the captain of the ship, leaving the two men to dig through evidence, Gibbs helping Hotch create a profile. Although, he got the impression that the older man didn't put much faith –if any—in profiling.

No, Hotch amended the thought, he probably did believe in it, half-heartedly. Either way, Gibbs saw the need for the BAU.

He wouldn't trouble them. iToo much/i, his brain unhelpfully added.

Gibbs didn't talk much, just kept sipping at his coffee and mumbling whatever it was he thought would be necessary. The man had a mind sharp for one his age, although Hotch could tell by the shifting in his seat that Gibbs wouldn't last long before he was allowed to do what he considered ireal/i work.

He took another look at the man, already on his fourth cup of coffee for the afternoon. The other agent, DiNozzo –Italian, liked to play rich fraternity boy, flirted with women even though Hotch could see his devotion to Gibbs—brought him a cup, as though reading Gibbs' mind as to when he would need it.

"Boss," DiNozzo opened the door, followed by Morgan. "We've got something." He shared a glance with Morgan, who quickly picked up where he left off, and Hotch wasn't able to consciously or unconsciously profile Gibbs any further.

-|-

"Think they'd have cracked it by now?"

"It's Gibbs, they're probably on their way back," Abby said confidently.

Garcia looked at the girl's constantly moving figure in the small screen that she had opened up. "Well, Morgan would've probably liked your Tony."

Abby grinned, almost wickedly. "Gibbs won't like that."

Garcia laughed. "I bet they're kinky in bed."

"I bet Morgan and Reid are worse," Abby threw back, familiar with the names even though she had yet to meet either person. She knew enough about them, though, more than they would have guessed.

There was a lull in the conversation filled with the familiar clicks of fingers at keyboards before Garcia smirked. "Done," she said with a tone of victory in her voice that would have warned anyone who knew her.

Abby only grinned. "Give me a second, and- there, I'm sending it over now."

Another stretch of time filled with clicking.

Then Garcia's eyes widened. "Would Gibbs really do that to Tony?"

"Well, he does hit him a lot," Abby said, pleased at the reaction. Then she cocked her head. "I don't think Reid would ever wear that. Ever. I mean, I don't think any sane boyfriend would let him leave the house dressed like that. And the club would be out of the question."

Garcia smiled. "Photoshop has it's benefits."


End file.
